


Oneiric

by VickyVicarious



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Dream Sequences, Elfman is the best romance coach in the world, F/M, Gray is a big dork, Humor, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2325116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyVicarious/pseuds/VickyVicarious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some claim that dreams reveal true desires. Gray/Lucy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oneiric: _adj.;_ of or relating to dreams or dreaming.
> 
> The confusion between dreams and reality in chapters one and three are intentional, but should be easy enough to figure out if you read carefully.

There’s something to be said for unconsciously stripping everywhere one goes, and that’s desensitization. Gray doesn’t quite understand the full implications of that at first, of course, just that after a while he can have a complete conversation with Lucy in just his boxers and neither of them notice for at least ten minutes.

The further reaches become blaringly obvious all of a sudden now, though, and something in his chest drops very low and heavy at the way she’s blushing so brightly, Natsu nervously apologizing over and over again, something about how his shower is broken.

They aren’t even in the bathroom and he’s wearing a towel and in Gray’s world that level of exposure is nothing at all unusual but now it’s Natsu and Lucy is blushing and looking away, and – glancing _back_ again briefly, not at his face, she always looks at _Gray’s_ face.

He’ll deny it later, but he definitely starts the fight, just all of a sudden throws Natsu across the room and Lucy squeals because the towel is almost flopping free and that’s just _worse_ , Gray snarls and goes for the punch.

Later, he has to freeze the radio mid-explosion and then everything sort of blanks out of his memory because Lucy didn’t have a weapon or even touch them but she was scarier than _Erza_ there. 

* * *

Gray can’t forget it that night, can’t shut his eyes without seeing her face so  _red_ , so shy and  _noticing_ . He clenches a fist and holds his breath and reminds himself it’s his own fault, though really it’s Ur’s when you get down to it. But – not Lucy’s, no, and not really Natsu’s, though he wishes it were because then it would be so  _easy_ to deal with.

Gray has a dream, an odd one. He remembers when he was in Lucy’s body and she in his, and she clamped her (his) arms around him (her), screaming he had better not take that shirt off. And in the dream he _does_ , he can’t help it, but he’s back in his own body and suddenly they’re all alone and she’s still gripping his wrist after he’s done, just staring at him, eyes wide.

A blush, so _red_ , crawls up her cheeks and he freezes, breath catching, and her eyes are flitting along his body, trying to focus on his face, and she swallows and he thinks _maybe?_ and she says in such a _soft_ voice, “Gray-”

He wakes abruptly, shivering like he hasn’t since early days.

He’s panting lightly, breath crystallizing in the air. Her name is on the tip of his tongue and he makes half the shape with no sound, the _Lu-_ then stops. 

* * *

Gray doesn’t notice when he strips, hasn’t in years. The constant training and reality of being an ice mage means that for a long time, outside temperature hasn’t made a huge amount of difference to him; certainly not the miniscule change that comes from removing thin cloth.

Lucy sits down next to him and hands him something. Gray blinks at her, then down at it, and startles to see his pants. Then he looks back up at her suddenly, standing and pulling them on slowly, taking too a little long with the buckle, and – she’s not looking at him. Or rather, she is but only in short glances, back and forth from his face to the piece of paper she holds. It’s got a lot of zeroes on it, and she’s talking about them, and Gray breathes deep like he doesn’t care.

Natsu’s useful then, because Gray can punch him as hard as he wants and no one will see anything unusual. It works pretty well until Erza arrives on scene, but once the complete panic wears off Gray can’t _help_ it, sneaks glances at Lucy as they walk out the door ready for a new adventure.

She says, “Wait!” and runs back inside. They all stop, curious, and when she emerges she’s holding her book and Gray’s shirt. Erza reacts in horror that _she_ didn’t even notice and says something about “discipline” and “training” that should make him want to cower in a corner, but Gray’s too busy.

Too busy putting on his shirt again, taking the brief moment it covers his face to let his eyes go wide, to feel his heart pound, to think _maybe_ even if her cheeks weren’t at all red. To let the shirt fall back to his shoulders and just _stare_ for a second or two, because Lucy’s grinning wide and his lungs don’t want to work.

“Okay, we’re all set now,” she says cheerfully, and Gray closes his eyes for a second. His expression is carefully calm and he doesn’t look at her again for a few blocks.

* * *

The job was mostly boring, but the fun part is when they get back and find out that they’re on probation because they destroyed one too many things for even Fairy Tail to accept without question. This means they can’t take new jobs for a little while, yes, but it also means that they all go over to Lucy’s without consulting her and when she opens the door to find them all comfortable, she shrieks like it was the first time (why is she still surprised?).

Somehow it turns into another sleepover, and Gray sneaks about in search of Lucy’s novel; every time he comes over he tries to read some more of it. She catches him in the act this time, though, and shoves him into the bathroom with strict instructions to bathe and then sleep and _nothing else_.

Even when he dips his whole head under the water he can hear yelling and crashing and familiar laughter from outside, and Gray spitefully fills the bath with ice-cubes to annoy Natsu despite knowing it won’t do any good.

They all go to sleep too late but together, wrapped in extra blankets on the floor of Lucy’s bedroom, and it’s comfortable in a way that has Gray rolling over to press his face into his pillow. He knows he’s going to dream again, he’s just got a feeling and he’s right.

* * *

“Gray-” Lucy says, and he breathes a little too quickly.

“Yeah?” and he’s a little too fast to ask. He swallows, twice, as she looks down briefly, cheeks red.

So _red_ , and she reaches out and touches his shoulder. He can’t move. She’s blushing, looking _up_ at him so firmly, her hand hesitant on his bare skin.

He sways closer.

Can feel her breath on his face when she speaks, that and her fingers on his shoulders, so _aware_ of it all. “You really should wear clothes more often,” she says, and looks down, lets go.

And it’s all extremely stupid but Gray still jolts, actually _reaches out_ for her, says, “Lucy-”

And the name is on his lips when he wakes, but all that comes out instead is a sharp “Hhhk-!” because Natsu’s jumping up and down on his stomach. He’s so grateful for that, he only freezes one leg instead of both. 

* * *

Gray finds himself watching carefully lately, keeping a constant eye on Lucy and Natsu. Natsu who is always there  _first_ somehow, always sees her first and bounces over to her side, Happy circling in the air, and babbles on about something. Natsu who reaches out and grabs Lucy’s arm to pull her over to the table where the rest of them are and Gray stares. Doesn’t know how Natsu  _does_ it.

But Lucy takes it in stride, he notices, and something suddenly makes sense, because she’s not blushing a _bit_. Just like, when they finally get to the table and sit down, Erza takes the moment to yell at Gray and he re-dresses and Lucy doesn’t bat an eye.

Gray feels vaguely triumphant after that, because he thinks he might know _how_ to know where he stands.

* * *

It’s easy enough to make happen, not at all suspicious; so when they’re sitting on the next train (their first mission in weeks and they all had to swear on pain of  _that_ punishment not to demolish more than three buildings apiece, but it’s still a mission) he sits next to Lucy without a word.

No one comments because with four people and a flying cat there are only so many seating combos and none of them are new by now, and for the next hour Gray moves so slowly, so very slowly, until his leg is shifted right, lightly touching hers from the knee down. He doesn’t look at her, just stares blankly out the window and waits, heart beating fast.

There isn’t a sound. Gray’s mood falls slowly, gives him just enough time to casually look over at Natsu’s tortured face (green suits him, really) and glimpse her out of the corner of his eye.

She abruptly looks away, like she doesn’t want to have been looking in the first place, and Gray’s chest clenches. He turns his head a little farther, suddenly realizing how very _still_ her leg is against his, God, and there it is: the tiniest hint of red on her cheeks.

Gray doesn’t react, at least he thinks he doesn’t, but he doesn’t move either, holds his leg perfectly still, waiting. She twitches away first, eventually, slow like trying to be casual.

* * *

“Lucy-” he says and catches her in his hands. Everything stops and for a moment he can’t believe himself. Her arms are round under his fingers.

She turns back to face him, and something quickens in the air, even as it suddenly turns still. They were in the Guild, surrounded by everyone and doing something typical, but now it’s all gone and he doesn’t even wonder at that.

She’s _blushing_. And he’s fully dressed; he glances down to check. His fingers move a little, upwards, and her mouth opens slightly and her skin is _soft_.

He’s got to bend down a little, finds himself doing it without a thought, finds her looming closer and her head bends up a bit, her eyes closing. He’s moving forward but it’s so _slow_ it seems like it’s not going to happen at all, he knows something’s going to shatter this but doesn’t know what—

He doesn’t remember it’s a dream and dreams always stop here. If he had it would have been easier, but as it is their lips touch and he’s _dumbstruck_.

She’s everywhere, he can’t move for the longest time. And when he does it’s just back slightly, lifting his head a little and she opens her eyes and _blushes so bright_ , says, “Gray– I–” and his fingers tighten on her shoulders.

He kisses her again, and feels reborn when her arm reaches up to curve around his neck. He kisses her again, and again, and feels like everything, like it’s all perfect and he can’t remember what breathing is.

He’s still kissing her when he wakes up, and it’s not so sudden as times before, slow enough that he’s drowsy and confused and wonders where she has gone.

* * *

Gray can’t look at her anymore.

He doesn’t think anyone notices, but that’s just what _he’s_ too busy doing, and he can’t look. In the past his own frequent stripping has never led him to be nonchalant about others’ bodies, just his own, but he hasn’t been obvious either and now he can’t look at her.

He can feel his heartbeat. He can feel her arms in his grip, too, feel her hand curled around his neck, half-into his hair. He can feel her _mouth_ when he looks at her, dream or not, and he nervously sheds clothes without knowing it, looking away firmly.

He senses eyes on him and jerks his head up and it’s Mirajane, smiling. He blinks back suspiciously, twitches his lips in greeting.

* * *

“So,” Mirajane says, leaning casually over the counter. “Lucy, eh?”

Gray stiffens but does _not_ show it, eats another bite of ice cream before answering very casually. “What about her?”

Mirajane shrugs, with that delicate smile and that _devious_ look in her eyes and honestly, this is why all women are scary and you can’t trust them and Gray would never say anything to Lucy anyway. “Oh, well,” she says, and laughs quietly. The guild is shockingly devoid of members for the moment, so she can get away with things like quiet laughter and still be heard. “I’m just a little surprised you know. I always somehow expected… well, I expected Natsu to be the one.”

Gray’s up on his feet in a second, hands clenched in fists. “I’d never lose to that moron!” he snaps, and Mirajane’s smile widens a notch.

“Oh-h? Even if it’s Lucy?”

“ _Especially_ if it’s Lucy,” Gray answers in a growl before his eyes widen and he abruptly sits down again, shoveling more ice cream into his mouth.

Mirajane laughs again, _evil_ woman. “Ah, Gray,” and her voice is surprisingly fond. “Don’t worry so much. They’re just friends, you know?”

Gray buries his face further in the bowl, trying to ignore the heat crawling over his cheeks. “Not like I’d care,” he mumbles, “and that’s obvious anyway.”

Mirajane just keeps smiling, like the devil she used to be. And then she leans in. “Of course,” she says far too close for comfort, “there’s always the potential for more. Better hurry up if I were you.”

Gray’s pretty sure he might have whiplash from that one, jerking his head up so fast his neck cracks, but she’s already laughing and moving along to hand out some drinks to new arrivals. He scowls, pushes himself up and leaves without a word.

Halfway down the block, there’s a horrified shriek from a tourist and he stops abruptly; scuttles back to where Mirajane is waiting patiently with a pile of clothing.

“Oh, shut up,” he says to the floor, tying his shoelaces.

* * *

Her face is in his hands, all soft skin and curved cheeks, and he’s leaning down, addicted, eager, whispering her name, and then she’s gone.

He looks up in surprise, blinks and looks around and sees her not three feet away with _Natsu_ , standing all wrapped together and their _mouths_ are –

Gray is so furious that he wakes up. And goes to Natsu’s house. And attacks him. 

* * *

“Honestly,” Lucy moans, head down on the table. “What is  _with_ you two lately?”

Gray stays quiet, perhaps a little too quiet, and watches her hands flat on the wood.

“Lucy,” he thinks he could say, “I like you.”

“Lucy,” he says instead, after a moment, “let’s get a job. I’m sick of Natsu.”

Natsu, right next to him, punches him in the face at this and Gray flings off his shirt and leaps into the fight along with seven other people that are in the mood for one, but when it’s all wound down (five hours later) Lucy looks at him contemplatively, purses her lips, and finally says alright.

“What?” she then defends herself to Natsu and Happy, who are both suddenly teary-eyed. “I’ve never gone on a job with just Gray! I’ve gone on plenty of ones with you guys!”

Gray looks down at the table and smiles, just a little.

* * *

The train ride’s a bit weird at first, because they are both overly aware of the lack of vomiting and Gray’s eyes keep going back to Lucy’s suitcase for some reason. But they are friends, and they get over it pretty quickly and just have a good time, talking and then eventually complaining about how long this train ride is, and then, somehow, discussing books.

Lucy’s eyes light up when Gray seems to know what he’s talking about and he says, casually, “Well yeah, what’d you think I was reading your book for? I’ve got pretty good taste you know. Hey, can’t you show me at least the next chapter? I want to know what happened with the wolves already.”

Lucy’s eyes get starry and she hugs him without warning.

“No, you _can’t_ Gray, I promised Levy!” she sighs, then draws back, still grinning from ear to ear. “But you can read it second, okay?”

“Gray?” she asks again, after a moment.

“Yeah,” he says through a throat that is very dry. “Second’s fine.”

She beams.

He stares. 

* * *

“‘I can’t believe they lied to us.’… she says.”

Gray grunts.

“‘I mean, a freaking _swamp_? Who would want to rob a _swamp_ in the first place?’… she says.”

Gray grunts.

“‘Gray? Are you all right?’… she says.”

He takes a deep breath. “The mud is up to my _waist_ , Lucy.”

It’s _such_ a relief when the expected bandits finally attack the shrine.

* * *

They end up staying the night, to wash off the mud and because the bandits are really annoying to lug around, heavy when frozen. Even when Lucy summons Taurus to do the carrying there are too many and she has to help too, getting muddy herself.

She honestly complains less than expected (anything to make the rent, Gray guesses bemusedly) but there’s this adorable pouty furious expression on her face the entire time they’re checking in. Of course, that might just be a result of the clerk, who is slightly less than professional and very fond of smirking.

Yes, they explain, they are mages on a job. No, the job was not mud-wrestling. Yes, they are sure. Look, does the place have bathing facilities or not? Yes? All right then. What – _yes_ they need to take the four-foot pile of frosted-over bodies inside with them. They’re prisoners, of course, Gray needs to lock them in an ice prison for the night to be sure they don’t get away.

No, Lucy is not going to be personally bathing them, in fact _they_ won’t need the bath at all, in fact Gray is rather fond of making ice spears, really there’s a room open?

But only the one.

Lucy arrives back from the baths shiny clean and dripping, dressed in a pair of silky pyjamas with keys all over them. She smiles at him and Gray abruptly decides to make a wall between their side of the room and the prisoners’ side. It’s ice anyway; he can break through it in the morning.

When his bath is over and he gets back, the room is dark and Lucy is quiet, just a steadily breathing lump in one of two beds. Gray walks over and stands next to her, watches her for a little bit.

The moonlight from the window reflects off the ice and sparkles over her relaxed features, and for a second Gray’s thumb touches her cheek as he bends a little closer. Then he realizes what he’s doing, the hopelessness, the cliché of it, the real idiocy, and he goes back to his own bed, quietly.

* * *

“Gray,” she says slowly, moonlight reflecting off ice and onto her skin, her eyes bright. “I love you.”

She is standing in front of him, her arms awkwardly folding under her chest, her hips cocked to one side a little, her hair behind one shoulder, her cheeks lightly dusted with red, just a bit. Her eyes meeting his, bright and certain, her face determined and a little nervous.

He takes a breath.

He can’t speak.

The moment stretches on, far too long and he should have said something a while ago, it’s endless and awkward and he doesn’t know if he has any thought left.

He does, it turns out, because otherwise what else would disappear when she steps forward, determined and hesitant and decided and says, “I mean it,” and her fingers touch his cheek one on side, his shoulder on the other, she leans up and presses her mouth to his.

Her lips are just a little moist.

She’s stretching up a little bit, on her toes, because he’s not bending his head down at all. He’s not moving.

She pulls away. “Oh,” she says. “Well, just… think about it.” And leaves.

Gray takes a breath; the air is cold and harsh in his throat.

He still can’t move.

* * *

Her eyes are large and smiling and hovering just above his and Gray freezes, his dream suddenly the only thing in his buzzing brain.

“Wake up, already,” Lucy grins cheerfully. “Those idiots have been yelling through the ice for the past half-hour.”

Gray blinks, listens. Ah, so they are. And he sits up slowly as Lucy shifts back, and her fingers leave his arm – they were _touching_ him, shaking him awake. And Gray’s head is still echoing, he’s still dizzy from sleep and those dreamt words and not knowing _what_ to do, doing nothing and just _botching_ it all, so he abruptly does something very incredibly stupid.

He catches her hand with his other arm, wrapping fingers around a slender wrist that really is so _smooth_ , and pulls forward, angles to the side, reaches up with the other hand, leans forward, closes his eyes –

Gray would like to say that this is familiar from the dreams but it’s _not_ , it’s all-new and _she’s_ frozen, he’s pressed up close, _so close_ , all around her and breathing slowly in through his nose and her mouth is soft and warm and he shudders. His eyes are still closed and time has stopped because he is kissing _Lucy_ and she’s not saying no at _all_ , just sitting there, frozen…

Gray yanks his head back so hard that it hits the wall behind him.

Her eyes are wide and horrified and her mouth is open just the tiniest bit so he can see white and pink and her lips were just smooth from chapstick and so very _soft_.

And he is red, he knows, horrified and his mouth open, panting, and he can feel his heart thumping and death impending and –

There is a war cry from the other side of the ice as a bandit attempts to ram his way out of the ice wall that is thin from melting all night, and Gray leaps up to take care of the convenient distraction. He can feel her staring, itching gaze on his back for a long time, and he shivers. Then she eventually makes this soft noise – this, “ _eep_ ”-type thing – and _rushes_ out of there, slams out to the hallway, and Gray breathes out through his nose and punches the last prisoner unconscious again.

They were so _soft_ and he can feel them lingering; he licks his lips and tastes her cherry chapstick, and turns bright red and thinks _oh god_ and wants so very much more.


	2. Chapter 2

The train ride back is considerably more awkward than the previous one. For an hour, at least, the bandits are there to distract both of them. Gray’s letting them stay awake and only restraining them through death-threats and ice-make seatbelts, but it’s all too short a time before the train reaches the appropriate station and Gray and Lucy have to hand the lawbreakers over to the local police. The police are completely ineffectual and Gray actually _sees_ two of the bandits escaping immediately, but that’s what guilds are for. Anyway, they are not his problem any more.

Lucy is sitting right across from him and it’s like he’s dreamed of, her face is this absolute bright red shade whenever she looks up at him. He can’t enjoy it though because it’s not an indicator that she likes him, just the opposite, and besides his face is _so_ much redder.

He just can’t _help_ it, though, because it’s only been four hours since those lips were under his and he can still taste her chapstick if he concentrates. And she is _right there_ and if she knows already now it’s not like he’s got anything to lose, right? He could just lean over and – again – he could press and close his eyes and _taste_ and _touch_ and she would-

Gray slams his eyes open, shoves himself to his feet, and despite knowing he’s being too loud, shouts anyway: “I’m sorry!”

Lucy jumps in her seat and presses herself away from him a little. “E-eh? What?” she demands, looking a little terrified.

Gray looks at his feet, wondering when he took his shoes off, and forces out a not-really-lie. “I – I’m sorry about earlier, I was having this… dream and then you woke me up but I wasn’t really awake and then I – you were _so_ – um. I’m sorry.”

He can still _feel her_ staring, and there’s a really long silence.

Then she laughs.

It’s a strange sort of laugh, kind of quiet and a little bit depressed, and Gray lifts his head very slowly. Lucy’s still blushing and she runs a hand over her face as she mutters, “That’s okay. If – if that’s it then, um, I’m sorry for freaking out. It’s fine.”

Gray’s heart lifts impossibly light and she laughs that laugh again, turns a little to look out the window. “So that’s all it was,” she mutters almost inaudibly, “I’m a little disappointed.”

Gray dies.

At least it feels like it but when Lucy glances away from the window at his face a moment later, she looks aghast at him so he’s got to be alive still. Gray supposes he must look crazy, just staring at her bug-eyed, shirt half-off.

“Wh-wha… You – dissap- _what?_ ” Gray stammers, fingers stiff in the folds of fabric, and he abruptly jerks his shirt back up on his shoulders, starts to button it up. It’s all very unconscious though, because his mind is just a buzzing emptiness and his heart is pounding so _damn_ hard.

“Oh – no, no, no, no, no!” Lucy shoves her hands out in denial, vigorously shaking her head as well. “Not like _that_ , I just – well, it’s stupid.”

Gray recovers just a little bit – enough to breathe at least – and collapses onto his seat. He rests his elbows on his knees and pins Lucy with a stare that’s probably far too intense. “No,” he says, struggling to at least _sound_ calm, “I’m sure it isn’t.”

Lucy blushes a bit more, and says, “Well, it would just be nice to be, um, appreciated. You know. Um, because I’m always around Natsu and he’s – I’m not sure he knows what girls even _are_ , let alone that I’m one, and he always manages to screw everything up whenever someone else notices, uh, me. Not that I… Well. It would just be nice if someone noticed. Once in a while.”

Gray can’t help but choke a little bit and he says, “Oh, I _definitely_ noticed.”

Lucy swings her wide brown eyes up to look at him and now it’s his turn to babble awkwardly again: “Well, because when I was having that, uh, dream, and then after – and you know I – w-well, uh, I couldn’t _help_ but notice that you’re a girl and everything and you have really soft lips but it’s not like I was _trying_ to notice but – um. I just… did.”

He cuts off awkwardly and Lucy grins a little (did she notice the lip bit? Oh god, she had to have, oh god). “Thanks, Gray.”

He looks away, grunts. Very casual. “You’re welcome.”

They’re both still blushing and the rest of the train ride goes by in complete silence. Lucy eventually takes out a book but Gray just stares out the window for the next three hours thinking _I am so stupid._

* * *

The very first second they get back – literally, the  _moment_ they open the guild’s doors – there is a great whoop, and Natsu launches himself onto Lucy. She topples right over and rolls all the way out into the middle of the street. Happy flies after and lands on her face, weeping godawful loud.

Gray eyes the mess of limbs and listens to the shrieking (“NATSU! FREAKING GET _OFF_ ME!” “LUUUUCY, I MIIIIIIIISSED YOUUUUUUU!”) for a moment or two. For a second he wants to laugh, and almost does, but then Lucy finally manages to tear herself free and dashes up to hide behind him.

Her hair is tousled and she is panting and Gray is very tired all of a sudden. “I missed you too,” she says warily. “But –um, let’s be glad from a _distance_ , okay, Natsu? Just… like, three feet is fine.”

Natsu stares, and doesn’t answer her. Eventually, he says in a slightly weird voice, “Gray?”

Gray blinks at him. Natsu’s features are developing into a glare for some reason. “What?” he asks.

And then Natsu breathes fire at them out of _nowhere_ , and Lucy screams when it lights up her skirt. The sound is like a shock right into Gray’s overabused heart, and the next thing he knows, he’s snarling and yelling, “Ice-make: lance!” and he and Natsu are aiming to kill like never (well, rarely) before.

Somewhere deep under the rush of frustration and confusion and protectiveness some tiny part of his brain wonders _did he figure me out?_

* * *

As if. Ha. Natsu. Knowing? Please.

Apparently Natsu was mad because Erza had heard him muttering nasty things about Gray going with Lucy, and had taken a job with him to cheer him up.

…There’s no way Gray can really remain angry after knowing that. He knows what a job with just Erza is like (terrifying would be the word). It doesn’t mean that he’s _regretting_ anything, exactly, but more like he can forgive Natsu for really seriously trying to murder him. He’d have done the same.

Well, in any case, once the initial fight-to-the-death is over, things pretty much settle down. It all returns to normal. Natsu yanks Lucy over to a table, shoves her into a chair, and then starts telling her about how he and Happy want to use her apartment to make cookies in. Grays suspects that Natsu actually already tried and failed destructively and is trying to retroactively get permission; ten seconds later his suspicion is confirmed by a roar and _thunk!_ as Natsu’s head is bounced off the tabletop. Around the room, everyone else seems to be doing the same stuff as always, and Gray’s quiet moment doesn’t last very long because Lucy grins at him and tells him to come join them, and Natsu downs a plate of fire, and Erza snaps at his bad table-manners, and Happy shoves a fish into Lucy’s face, and _nothing changes_.

Something very violent and terrible hits Gray in the stomach. It winds him so badly that he’s got no recourse but to sink down onto the bench, eyes wide and unfocused, totally exhausted and stricken.

Nothing has changed.

He’s numb all that night and, walking home, his head is still echoing with the horror of it. Nothing has changed from before, _nothing_ , it’s like it never even _happened_.

But it did, it did, he couldn’t even deny that if he wanted to, and when he gets home he flops onto his bed without undressing, face hot, to relive it again (and again and again). It did happen, if he closes his eyes he can feel it _still_ happening, and Lucy even _said_ those things to him (the “I’m disappointed” that struck him down and even knowing what she meant, he can’t remember her saying that without jolting a little), but she’s acting exactly the same as always.

Is it often like this? On paired jobs, do people often have those so-intimate moments, and then just leave them behind when they get home? Is that just what _happens?_

Gray doesn’t get much sleep.

* * *

Natsu may not know, and for the next several days Gray thinks no one else does either, but then one day he’s drinking a cup of coffee and Lucy walks in. His cheeks heat up a little, because she’s wearing this skirt that’s a little shorter than usual, and anyway she’s walking right at him. So he sits up a bit straighter and starts to mumble a hello over the rim of his cup and everything, and Lucy just… keeps walking.

Straight past him over to flop on the bar and complain to Mirajane about what an awful morning she’s had and after a few moments she glances over and sees him. “Oh. Gray,” she says, “Good morning.”

Gray grunts in response, face buried in his coffee, and chugs the rest of the scalding liquid down without even pausing for breath.

There’s a deep gasp at his elbow, then suddenly he’s being yanked up into the air and carted away with no time to protest. Lucy says, “huh?!” and starts to follow but Mirajane quickly mutters something to her. She puts a restraining hand on Lucy’s arm.

Gray wants to call out, but there’s a hand over his mouth and then before he knows it Elfman has set him down in the men’s bathroom, where various male Fairy Tail members are peacefully going about their business.

“Gray,” Elfman says, face very serious. “Listen, I know you don’t have much experience in this, but you have got to GO ABOUT WINNING LUCY’S LOVE LIKE A MAN!”

Someone stops peeing. Someone else says, “…what?”

Gray’s eyes widen.

Elfman is still very serious. “I know you’re still young, but you will NEVER FIND LOVE IF YOU AREN’T MANLY ABOUT IT! You have to CONFRONT HER and don’t be afraid to SHOUT OUT YOUR MANLY EXPRESSIONS OF LOVE! **DON’T** MUMBLE!”

“…holy crap,” Droy says. Macao makes a noise suspiciously like a snort. Someone zips up their pants.

“I – I – what?” Gray manages to splutter, horrified beyond all words.

“Are you a MAN OR NOT?!” Elfman demands. Normally Gray is used to this sort of thing, and at least he’s been conditioned to always reply in the affirmative, so he nods frantically. Elfman only seems encouraged. “Then court her LIKE A TRUE MAN SHOULD!”

Gray stutters, “C-court… what… are you talking about _Lucy?_ ” His voice gets dangerously close to breaking.

Elfman nods vigorously, and Gray knows now is the time to deny it. If he bursts out laughing now like it’s ridiculous, then maybe, _maybe_ , he can get out of here okay, but…

_But. Shit._

Gray’s face just reddens and reddens and his mouth is opening and closing with nothing coming out. He has no idea what to do or say, he _can’t_ do or say anything, because Elfman is offering to give him advice on how to woo in a manly fashion and Macao is downright laughing now and Droy is saying, “seriously?” over and over, and then someone snickers, “he’s _blushing!_ ” and Gray shoots out of there.

They chase after him, catcalling and laughing riotously now, and Gray is _burning alive_ and hissing, “Shut up! Shut up!” and Lucy turns around at the bar and says, “Hey, what was that all about?”

Someone whistles, low in his ear. Gray feels himself redden even more. “N-nothing,” he forces out.

Lucy stares at him oddly. Macao falls over from laughing too hard. “Um… right,” she says. “Sure.”

Gray averts his gaze, flinching, and someone pats him on the back, which is just _it_.

He’s got the bunch of them frozen and is out of the door before anyone can say another word and he runs all the way home without stopping.

Once he gets there, he sinks down into a chair and presses his hot face into his hands.

_Shit_ , he thinks, _shit, shit, shit_ , until he’s got not even that sort of coherency left.

* * *

Once the news spreads and every male member of Fairy Tail (minus Natsu) knows all about Gray’s love life – or lack thereof, really – his life descends into levels of hell he didn’t even know existed before. He’s always been fully aware that his guild is one of perverts. Usually, he doesn’t even mind, since his stripping tendency tends to lump him in as one of them. But when clusters of guys sit around him without being invited, and start to all commiserate about Lucy’s various attributes, it’s just too much. Gray breaks table after table, ices over a dozen people, but there’s no way he can be expected to sustain his sullen, humiliated silence for long in this sort of situation.

It’s the afternoon that Makarov, as in Makarov the _Master_ , pats him on the back and waxes eloquent about Lucy’s cleavage. Gray sort of slumps pitifully in his seat, unable to honestly disagree but still unwilling to _admit_ it, and then he just breaks. It was inevitable.

“…yeah. I guess. Yeah,” Gray mumbles, and Makarov encourages him to go on, let it out. He begins to warm to his topic a little bit because, well, because it’s true and he’s been good and quiet for a long time now, anyway. It’s Makarov, too, the guild leader and old and wise and if _he_ is perfectly willing to admit that Lucy has an extremely shapely behind and curvaceous hips, then surely there’s nothing wrong with Gray doing the same? Right?

He’s a good person and all but he _notices_ , especially since, you know, he actually likes her for more than this too. But he’s still a guy, and everyone is talking about it all the time now, what is he supposed to say? But it’s not like he’s doing anything _wrong_ here.

So Gray thinks, or at least deludes himself, until he happens to glance up and spies Lucy herself hovering in the doorway, tears in her eyes. She is staring at them, horrified, and it’s obvious she has heard them talking.

Gray’s mouth snaps shut. His eyes go wide and he wants to take it all back but he can’t do that and the horrified, betrayed, _disgusted_ look on Lucy’s face is aimed right at _him_.

She leaves without a sound. Gray sits frozen for several seconds longer, until Makarov says something about “melons, am I right?” and laughs.

Then he screws up his face and punches himself and swears, “God _damn_ it,” and runs after her.

* * *

Holy crap, Lucy runs fast. They are all the way down at the wharf near her house before Gray gets close enough to grab her wrist and make her stop.

“Hey! Lucy,” he pants. “Wait, I – what you just heard, it wasn’t – ”

“Shut up!” she interrupts. She tugs several times, but Gray’s got her way beat as far as physical strength goes, and he holds tight. Lucy glares at the water. “You… I do _not_ want to talk to you right now, Gray Fullbuster.”

Gray is fairly certain that Lucy has never said his last name before. It feels like a death sentence. “Wait, no,” he fumbles. He’s desperate enough to be saying anything. “It’s not like – I mean, you said yourself that you wanted to be no –”

She whirls about and uses her free hand to slap him hard enough to jerk Gray’s head sideways. His face stings and he’s sure it must be killer on her hand but Lucy is clearly too furious to care. “That was _not what I meant-!!!_ ”

She’s still got tears lurking in the corners of her eyes.

“I – ” Lucy turns away from Gray, then back again. “Damn it, I didn’t mean it like that and you _know_ it! I – I get _that_ all the time, and it doesn’t matter to me in the slightest. Especially in the guild; I’m used to it, _from some people_. But you – you are not supposed to BE one of those people, Gray YOU ASSHOLE. Just because – you kissed me and now you think it’s okay to – to just talk about it? About _me?_ ”

Gray sort of shakes his head. His mouth is hanging open a little bit.

Lucy laughs harshly. “I – I don’t even know what I was thinking. I thought you were someone who – god, I don’t even know. I just – ” Lucy slows down very abruptly and Gray lets her wrist slip out of his hand without meaning to. The world is getting quieter and quieter. “I know it’s not fair for me to… You’re a guy, you do this sort of stuff, and I shouldn’t expect otherwise. It’s just _Natsu_ – ”

Gray couldn’t say what it is, in the end. Maybe it’s hearing Lucy give him the same excuses he told himself, and realizing just how ridiculous they really sound out loud. Or maybe it’s the fact that she _said_ it just a minute ago, said they had kissed for anyone to hear. Or maybe it’s the whiplash-inducing comparison to Natsu, and the premonition that he’s going to lose terribly for once and it will be his fault. Maybe it’s just the last thread of his sanity snapping under the pressure.

But whatever the cause, Gray just sort of ex _plodes_ right then with no forewarning. He _snaps_ forward, with barely time for a breathless “Lucy” before he just kind of plasters himself against her. He manages to curve one hand behind her head and the other around her back, keeping her forward, and he has his mouth exactly lined up with hers and pressed up against it for good measure.

Lucy’s mouth was open mid-sentence, and it’s with the same rushing lack of air and sound that Gray slides his tongue forward into it. His whole world melts into a mushy sort of heat that delights in ripping holes in his internal organs. She’s so soft, and _god_ so real in his hands, against his teeth and tongue and lips, that Gray shivers and shudders and pulls back very slowly to rest his forehead against hers.

“I _like you_ , Lucy,” Gray whispers, heart beating like a snare drum in his chest and so very warm. He feels like everything’s dripping down around him, the sky and buildings pooling at his feet. He feels more frightened than he has in a long while, or at least he should but his lips are moist and his hands sweating, the one behind her head curled into her hair so tight Gray doesn’t think he’s ever going to be capable of letting go.

There’s a long pause. And then, in perfect time with a quick _thump thump_ of his pulse, she says: “–You what.”

It’s not a question. Her voice is totally blank, and Gray gulps. He closed his eyes when he kissed her, and it takes several more seconds of building up his courage before he can open them now. Hers are staring at him, wide and numb and such a deep mahogany brown.

His throat is dry; he’s fizzing out fast and dangerous like dry ice, but Gray stares into Lucy’s eyes and repeats himself. “…you. I like you. So.”

He stops. He can’t remember what he was going to say. He can’t remember what she has already said. He can’t remember anything or plan ahead but only can let go of her hair and pull back one – two – three – four steps and breathe out steadily.

Frost stiffens her hair into clumps where his fingers gripped it. His palms feel hot. Strange.

“So,” Gray says again.

She stares at him and doesn’t blink. He can still taste her, like grains of sugar crunching between his teeth. His hands still feel hot and sweaty, his face is burning and bright red _he knows_ but everything seems numb. He doesn’t know what to do. She’s like a statue.

Gray’s fingers twitch with the urge to reach out again, from _nowhere_. He wants to, though. Just grab her and she didn’t push him away after all, and she was so soft and smooth and _still_ in his arms…

He’s such a liar. This is impossibly beyond just like.

Gray swallows one last time, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t look back, for fear that she’ll still be staring blankly after him, eyes wide and endlessly deep.


	3. Chapter 3

“I _like you_ , Lucy,” Gray whispers, heart beating like a snare drum in his chest and feeling so very warm. He can’t move or breathe or think or live at all until she answers, and when she never does he remains frozen, frozen, and she doesn’t move at all. 

* * *

“ _You,_ Lucy,” Gray whispers, heart pounding and she moves so fast he has no time to react, just yanks herself right out of his arms and he feels like she took hold of his heart and pulled it with her – he  _aches_ …

Her eyes are glittering and she looks somehow sad but mostly angry, her face pale and eyes hot and she snorts out this mocking half-laugh that _rips at his insides_ : “Yeah, right.”

“No, wait, I…” Gray says – he still can’t raise his voice or move at all, he’s helpless and she’s spinning on her heel to walk quickly away from him. He wants to shout that she doesn’t understand but he’s not sure he does any better and besides, she’s _gone_ now and he can’t move at all, can’t do a thing still. 

* * *

“Lucy,” Gray whispers, heart out of control because she is standing at his door and he doesn’t understand why she’d even speak to him at the Guild anymore, let alone track him down to his home, and oh god she’s  _smiling_ .

“Did you really mean it?” she asks. He nods, dumbly, and his heart is going to thud itself out of his chest; she’s stepping closer and still with that _smile_ , what could this mean?

Lucy reaches out and catches him in her hands, draws him closer. He bends in, helpless before that smile and his utter bewilderment, and she kisses him.

“This – this is a dream,” Gray yanks back to say, eyes wide and hating himself because he doesn’t really care. “It’s got to be – you can’t have–”

“Shh,” Lucy whispers into his ear, her voice soft and affectionate, breath tickling his skin and Gray falls silent with a full-body shiver. “I like you too.”

* * *

“Lucy,” Gray whispers, unable to stop himself, but he swallows thickly and turns back to his coffee before she looks his way. He should’ve known better than to linger in the Guild, especially by the bar – she spends time there every day talking to Mirajane. But it’s been three days already, and though he’s gotten to the point where he’d rather not sleep at all than deal with the dreams, some assistance is necessary to keep him awake.

And anyway, Mirajane hasn’t teased him once yet. She saw him at the door and had a steaming mug ready for him by the time he slumped down into a stool, and somehow no one else has gotten on his case about Lucy yet. That’s probably just because it’s so early in the morning, but Gray has been too busy counting his blessings to care. Well, now he’s facing the repercussions of that.

Gray keeps his face as low to the bar as he can, thinking that with any luck, Lucy will walk right past him. She’s done it before after all, and that was when he _wanted_ her to notice him, so if he just remains still enough, then he’s got a good chance of remaining unseen.

He hasn’t had a good string of luck lately, though, and Gray is so focused on keeping his head down that he forgets to keep track of his hands. His body reacts the way it always does to nervousness or boredom or anything really, and next thing Gray knows Lucy is standing over him with his pants in her hands. He’s sitting on the floor, taking off his socks, and honestly has no idea how that happened.

But far more important than his near-nakedness is _Lucy,_ standing over him and for a second everything in Gray stops because her cheeks are cherry-red.

He gazes dizzily up at her for a few seconds before he shakes that shock off. Of _course_ she’s going to be blushing, after what he did. It’s not like it means anything special. Gray repeats this in his head about four and a half times before Lucy interrupts him.

“Um… your clothes,” she prompts with an awkward little smile.

Gray stares blankly at the upturned corners of her mouth for a moment, before clearing his throat and trying to respond normally. He gets the words out all right, “Oh, when did that happen?” but he can’t put the proper emotion into them. Avoiding Lucy’s eyes, he takes the clothes and starts putting them back on.

She waits for him to finish, and when he stands back up she’s got this sort of strange look on her face. “Gray,” she says, “Can I talk to you?”

And it’s not that he’s a coward or anything, but Gray can tell already that he’s made a mess of things, and he’d rather deal with that later than sooner. He’s not so defeatist either, usually, but something about Lucy messes with his confidence; also, the guild knows too much about his love life already.

So Gray smiles at Lucy, a quick flash of a grin, and says, “Sorry, Lucy, no time. I’ve got a job to get to.”

He walks off quickly, snatching a random job off the board. He doesn’t look at it until he’s outside, and ends up groaning at the realization that he’s just signed up for security detail on the local museum’s new artifacts for the next week. That wouldn’t be so bad, especially since it’s the night shift and that gives Gray the excuse to stay awake, but it’s unlikely anyone is actually going to attack a museum and Gray was hoping for something that allowed him to hurt people.

* * *

He gets his chance two days later. Gray has just arrived home, and he should be exhausted after eight hours of boring pacing but instead he’s just jittery from the twelve cups of coffee he’s drunk today. The caffeine in his blood is probably the only reason he’s able to dodge the flaming fist aimed at him the moment he opens his apartment door, and Gray instantly leaps back into the hallway. Then, when Natsu rushes after, he retreats further to get outside, because he doesn’t want the building burned down.

They clash in the courtyard. Natsu’s face is red and his eyes are even squintier than usual. When Gray asks, mid-stab with an ice pike to the ribs, what the hell Natsu’s problem is, Natsu splutters out a whole bunch of nonsense words and then finally manages, “…Lucy!”

Two seconds later, Gray’s head meets the wall of the building with a loud _crack!_ and he remembers why it’s a bad idea to freeze up in a fight. Then he’s too busy dodging Natsu’s attacks to think, and time passes in a haze of fire, ice, and pain whenever Natsu lands a hit.

Eventually, when they’ve worn themselves out and are just laying on their backs in what’s left of the grass, panting, Gray asks very slowly, staring up at the stars, “What… about Lucy?”

Natsu pants out what’s not really an answer. “You’re... a dumbass… Gray.”

Rolling his eyes takes a lot of effort. They feel sort of dry in their sockets, so Gray blinks a few times. “No, seriously.”

Natsu is silent for a moment or two, then levers himself up onto one arm and peers at Gray. “Seriously. You’re freaking stupid, stupid.”

Gray jolts up to face off against Natsu, more out of instinct than any real anger. “Oh yeah?!”

But Natsu doesn’t react as usual; instead, he just stares at Gray’s face really closely. “Lucy!” he says sharply, and Gray winces.

“Damn it,” Natsu mumbles, falling back to the grass. “You really do like her, huh?”

And maybe it’s the burns and bruises all over him, or the fact that he hasn’t slept in 32 hours, or maybe just because he knows his reaction to Lucy’s name was more than proof enough, but Gray doesn’t even bother to deny it.

“Shut up,” he says, by way of confirmation. Then, “Who told you?”

Natsu grunts. “Heard some guys laughing about it. And Lucy cracks really easily when you threaten her diary.”

Gray thinks he’s probably supposed to react to this news with shock and noise, and be very upset that Natsu’s got the full story (and somewhat curious about what that diary says about him), but instead he’s mostly just defeatist (and somewhat curious about what that diary says about him). “So?”

“Well, Lucy got all red and then she started babbling about weird stuff and she kept squeezing Happy and crying, and then Erza made me bring them ice-cream and when it was all melty when I gave it to them, Lucy started crying again and Erza threw me into the canal and then I decided to come beat you up.”

“…Oh.”

There’s a long pause.

“Erza knows?” Gray asks.

“Yep.”

“I’m dead,” Gray mutters, though oddly he’s more focused on the thought that Lucy cried because of him, and he doesn’t know what that means.

Natsu claps him on the shoulder (mutual fear of Erza is the only thing that ever could prompt such a reaction) before leaving mostly amiably. Gray stays where he is, gazing up at the sky and not minding the cold night in the least.

* * *

It’s very cold, in that soft, distant sort of way it gets when your core body temperature has plummeted too low and all your different organs and functions are shutting down one by one – a sleepy, gentle, lovely, fatal sensation and Gray basks in it.

He’s lying down with his head on Lucy’s lap, the rest of his body buried under the snow, and his eyelids quiver between open and closed, his breath just steady puffs of ice crystallizing in the air.

It’s very cold, in that way it gets when you’re dying piece by piece and you’ve been worn down to the point that you actually enjoy it. And Lucy strokes a hand through Gray’s hair, and in the moments that his eyes are open he thinks he sees her smiling, and he’s lovingit right up until the moment that the ice around them cracks and shatters and melts and disappears and Lucy rises, dropping him to the abruptly-hard ground.

There’s a scowl on her face. “I didn’t sign up for this crap,” she says matter-of-factly, and Gray kind of wakes up exactly then at four-fifteen AM with a sharp rock digging into his back and thinks _well, of course_ like an idiot only now realizing his idiocy.

* * *

Gray paces and makes ice sculptures of Natsu to destroy for the next three hours until he estimates some of the relatively less insane people in the world might be awake, and then he heads down to the Guild. Head low and glances around himself decidedly furtive, Gray slinks up to Mirajane at the bar and mutters, in a low voice, “Can I talk to Elfman. …please.”

She smiles at him brilliantly and hands him a finished ice-cream sundae that she could only have had time to make if she _knew_ beforehand that Gray was coming right this second. Then she ushers him into a back room where Elfman joins Gray just minutes later. For perhaps the first time in all the years Gray has known him, the buff, wildly scarred man is terrifying: he’s grinning and shirtless and toting a bulging duffel bag with what looks like very battered flower petals peeking out through the zipping.

“Mirajane told me you came to ask me to teach you the fine art of **manly wooing!** ” Elfman booms, utterly ecstatic, and drops the duffel to the floor. The walls maybe shake or else Gray’s going into convulsions; he’s not sure which.

He clears his throat once. Then about half a dozen more times until he’s capable of actual speech, and quietly says the words that will seal his fate. “Please teach me to… _woo_ … like a real man, Elfman…-sensei.”

The descent into hell commences and Gray’s ice-cream melts quietly on the table, forgotten.

* * *

And really, now he should be prepared to face his demons –er, love interest. He’s got a full arsenal: respectful, charming, yet manly things to say; knows now the mystical powers of flowers and chocolate; realizes that being honest and clear and thinking about what she wants is important; he’s even had a tutorial on the best date venues in Magnolia. Actually, the amount of stuff Elfman has told him is rather frightening – for instance, Gray couldn’t picture the rough-looking man riding with a date in a paddleboat shaped like a swan if his life depended on it.

But the problem is, despite all this general date knowledge, Elfman hasn’t prepared Gray at all for how to ‘woo’ _Lucy_ , which is utterly terrifying in so many different ways. If he’s gained anything of real value from the lesson at all, it’s that nothing is going to happen unless he mans up and makes it happen, which Gray already knew. Well… actually, something would probably happen anyway if he just allowed Lucy to finally confront him, but Gray is fairly certain that road will not end anyplace he wants to be.

So rather than do what he knows he has to, Gray puts it off a little longer, drinks too much coffee and paces in front of the leftover plates and whatever of ancient civilizations and goes home and flops on his bed to stare at the ceiling and try not to think, try not to fall asleep…

* * *

He opens his eyes and knows she’s there – just lying next to him. He doesn’t even have to look but he knows she’s there, though not why. They aren’t touching at all, but he can feel her skin humming at him, only three inches away, is acutely aware of the heat radiating out from her, and his breath catches in his lungs.

He wants to turn his head and look at her. He desperately wants to roll over and just stare at her and absorb the fact that she really is _here_ , must have forgiven him to be here, must want him back, must be here, must…

And then it hits him, sickeningly, in the gut: what if she’s not really here at all? What if this is just a dream, some sort of spectre? He can feel her presence so strongly but what if it’s just all in his head? Gray can’t bear the thought. He wants to prove his fears unfounded, but he’s not brave enough. That’s the problem, isn’t it? He knows things might go wrong –which isn’t all that special, everything in life can go wrong, it’s not unique – but this is so _important_ , and he can’t bear the thought of it breaking apart, can’t stand it disappearing.

Gray starts to hear this odd sound, this sort of quiet cracking, and he realizes it’s _Lucy_ and he reaches out desperately all of a sudden, aware that she’s breaking into pieces. And then his hand finds hers, and it’s warm and smooth and small in his, and Gray’s whole body is tense, juddering.

He grips tight to her, so utterly certain that if he looks, she’s going to disappear. He _knows_ she will, the fear grips at his heart and paralyzes him, clenches him tight and won’t let go, but-

But her hand is slowly slipping out of his anyway, and Gray can’t seem to hold on with clumsy, fear-frozen fingers. So he turns, stiffly and hating himself and so certain she’s going to be gone forever or, worse, never have been here in the first place, turns despite that because he’s starting to realize that if he doesn’t move he’s going to lose her regardless, turns and.

Lucy grins at him, twisting her hand to grip his tighter, and Gray feels his body gravitating closer to hers entirely on its own. “You took too long,” she whispers, and then they start to touch: lips pressing on lips, hands gripping together, legs overlapping, heartbeats matching at a furious speed, warm and soft and kissing, together so simply.

* * *

Gray knocks with his elbow, as he has no free hands. Erza opens the door.

He freezes in instinctive panic, frantically trying to figure out if he has the wrong house. No, he can’t, he knows the way too well, this is where Lucy lives! But there she is – Erza, glowering down at him and oh god he’s going to die, it all ends here, someone please!

Erza leans in close, looking entirely unsurprised to see Gray. “If you do something stupid I’m going to _kill_ you,” she snarls.

He squeaks.

She nods, and walks away, clapping one heavy, gauntleted, threatening-everything-terrible-there-is-in-the-world hand onto his shoulder in passing. Gray wisely takes a moment to hyperventilate away the mortal terror before stepping into Lucy’s apartment and gently shutting the door behind him.

She’s at the desk, writing. Without looking up, she asks, “Who was it?”

Lucy seems lit up in a way that has nothing to do with the sunlight streaming through the window behind her. She’s glorious, gorgeous, entirely out of reach; Gray almost turns around and walks right out. Perhaps he would have, if he didn’t know such an action probably qualified as ‘stupid’ and would no doubt land him in a shallow grave.

As it is, Gray stares too much and speaks too little; Lucy finally pauses in her work. “Erza,” she says, starting to turn. “I said who- oh.”

Gray kind of –waves at Lucy. Then, abruptly, he remembers what he’s supposed to do, and fumbles across the room to shove the flowers at her. The bouquet is too big and crowds her face, so he reaches out and instantly takes it back. A thorn catches on his finger, startles him, and Gray drops the ice-cream on his foot.

“Ow!” he mumbles, then has to juggle the flowers before they, too, end up on the floor. Finally getting a good grip without anything poking him, he breathes a sigh of relief.

There’s a noise. Gray identifies it as giggles. Coming from Lucy. He feels very distant, like he’s floating out of his body. Except, at the same time he knows he’s beet-red, can practically feel the heat floating off of his face.

“Uh –” Gray manages, not really looking at Lucy’s face so much as her feet, which are bare. Her toenails have been painted with little stars. They’re adorable. “Yeah, uh, thisisforyou.”

He thrusts the bouquet out in her general direction once more. “Sorry, it’s too big, I shouldn’t have gotten…”

Lucy’s feet move away, briefly tiptoe in front of a cabinet (so cute) and then return. She takes the flowers from Gray, gently settling them into a huge vase that makes Gray’s armful of flowers suddenly seem woefully inadequate.

“Oh,” he says. Fumbling for something else to do, eyes still aimed towards the floor, he remembers the ice-cream and dives for it, holding it up triumphantly. “Chocolate! Elfman said choco… I mean, Natsu said you wanted some ice-cream, so… I kept it cold on the way here. Actually, you might need to let it thaw for a bit before you try to eat it…”

Lucy laughs out loud this time, sending Gray’s heart into his head and twining his intestines around his stomach. But then she takes the ice-cream away and sets it down on the desk and turns to him and says, still sounding a little entertained but suddenly all too serious, “What are you _doing_ , Gray?”

He glances up at her and then gets stuck on her face, unable to look away. “Uh – I’m, I’m wooing you!” he snaps, humiliated. “What does it look like?”

Lucy snorts. She actually _snorts_ at him, and Gray burns with offended pride. “ _Wooing_ me? Where did you get that kind of nonsense from?”

He starts to reply haughtily, miffed at her complete dismissal of all his effort, but all of a sudden she cuts him off with a laugh. It’s sort of like that one time on the train, this laugh; not really amused but sort of tired and maybe a little sad.

“Seriously… what are you doing… I was getting so angry at you, but then you come in here acting like this huge goof.” Lucy sighs and Gray’s irritation melts away.

“Look, I’m sorry. I haven’t been – I mean, um, I didn’t mean to be such a jerk. But I didn’t want you to, you know,” he pauses, but she doesn’t actually seem to know, so Gray grimaces and forces himself to spit it out, “reject me.”

Lucy blinks. “Wait, so you actually…”

“I really, really like you!” Gray blurts, then flushes vermilion. “I have for a long time, but I – I couldn’t tell you, but then everyone found out and Elfman was telling me to be a man and the Master was – was – uh, you heard that – and you kept talking about Natsu and I just…”

He finds that he doesn’t really have the words to continue. He’d planned them, planned _something_ and even memorized it in front of his mirror and everything, but Gray can’t remember it anymore. Lucy is still looking at him so steadily, too, it’s making him off-balance and muddled, all out of order.

Think. Think. What did you come here for. _Think_.

“I don’t like paddleboats!”

Gray covers his face in his hands and groans. “Shit.”

Lucy sort of gasps and laughs at the same time, and Gray kind of hates her guts. “Shut up,” he moans, “Just let me… I didn’t mean to say that. Damn it. Shit.”

Her hand touches his. It’s cool, and his is hot with embarrassment, quite the turnaround from normal. “You must really like me,” she says, sounding a little amazed. “You’re usually so cool and sure of yourself…”

Gray lowers his hands and straightens up. She’s right. This is all about not being a cowardly idiot, right? Be a man. Come on.

He takes a deep breath. “Please go out on a date with me, Lucy,” he says in a firm, deep, self-assured voice.

Then he meets her eyes and all pretence of casualness melts away. “Please,” Gray repeats softly, and it’s clear he’s pretty much begging.

She stops laughing all of a sudden, and starts to blush. She’s blushing. Red.

If this were a cartoon, Gray’s head would be puffing steam right about now.

“I – wow. Um. S-sure,” she stutters. Then, starting to sound surer of herself, she nods. “Okay. Alright, I – yes, I will.”

There’s a long pause, during which Lucy blushes and Gray’s organs turn into fireworks and everything in him reels in shock and indescribable bliss.

Then Lucy grins, sort of wickedly. “There don’t have to be paddleboats,” she offers.

“Ah-! I – hey! That wasn’t me; that was just… Elfman said girls liked them and it was… manly to paddle really fast… so I – but if you want to, we can, I mean, I won’t mind. Whatever you want to do is fine, really, I – why are you looking at me like that?”

Lucy is grinning widely. “You asked _Elfman_ for advice? So that’s where the flowers and – oh, _wooing_ , oh!” She seems positively delighted. “You’re such an _idiot_.”

And before Gray has time to get offended once more, she leans forward, laughing, and.

_He tastes cherry_.

And she’s so soft, warm, so smooth and utterly in charge, leaning forward and Gray’s heart is shuddering, he’s shivering closer and melting open to kiss her back helplessly, mindlessly, everything’s _perfect_. They kiss and kiss and Gray puts everything he has into it, all of himself on and on endlessly until they run out of air and he’s lightheaded and dizzy and has to sit down heavily on the couch.

“Wow,” he says through lips that tingle and buzz.

“Y-you know, normally I don’t do this,” Lucy blusters, hand to her lips and breathing heavily. “I mean, that was great and all but it’s gonna be at least a date or two before you get another one of those. B-because I respect myself and you should respect me too, and, and – Gray? Are you all right?”

He’s staring at the ceiling, brightly colored dots floating around in his vision. He’s still feeling dizzy, and utterly exultant, and laughs as he says, “I haven’t really slept for a week.”

“You really _are_ an idiot,” Lucy tells him. But she sounds extremely moved, and she goes to the kitchen and returns with a spoon to snatch the ice-cream and sit down on the couch next to him, propping her feet on the coffee table. The stars on her toes shine in the light.

“Come on, Gray,” Lucy says, popping the ice-cream container open and taking a bite, putting a pillow on her lap and patting it. “Take a nap, you need it.”

And he slips sideways as delicately as he can, resting his head on the pillow and savoring in their closeness and the kiss and the date and just _everything_ , and Lucy mutters “dumbass,” under her breath but it sounds more fond than anything else, and after a bit he drifts off to the feel of her fingers carding through his hair.

 For the first time in a long time, Gray doesn’t dream. There’s no need to, anymore.


End file.
